Drake landed on the gravelly ledge, tucking his wings to his side as he observed the scene before him with keen eyes.

The woman--Willa Stone, he could only guess--scrabbled back further in retreat before promptly slipping in the mud. She landed in a graceless heap at his clawed feet. The two people who had been standing beside her until he'd lowered his aura to make himself visible had climbed into their car and were already tearing ass back toward the winding, mountain road, tires squealing as they went.

So far, they seemed like an odd sort, wolf-shifters. Hopefully that wasn't the case in all ways.

He took a second to morph back into human form, rolling his shoulders to ease his wings back into place, stretching his hands as his claws retracted. The leather sack he kept tied to his ankle dropped to the ground now that it didn’t have his dragon’s girth holding it up. He retrieved it, sparing another glance at the woman, and she gazed back at him stupidly, mouth agape.

"Did you plan to stay down there, or?"

He knew he sounded like an asshole, but damn if he could help it. He could deal with the fact that she wasn't a dragon. And, although he could hardly see her face through the mud, he'd long since resigned himself to the idea that his new mate would be plain at best, and FUBAR in the face at worst. He didn't even mind that she was, from what he could tell, a bit plump. In fact, he rather liked that.

But he couldn't abide an idiot.

Just the thought of having to share his lair with a woman who stared at him with blank eyes all the time made his inner dragon rail with the injustice of it all.

"I asked you a question, wolf."

He tugged his bag open and pulled out a pair of gym pants, yanking them on as he waited for her to answer. Maybe his nakedness had thrown her off? But surely, as a shifter herself, she would know that clothes weren’t always easy to come by.

She wiped a hand over the mud on her face, clearing off just enough that he could make out a pair of light brown eyes that were wide with shock but far too sharp to belong to a dimwit.

One bullet dodged, at least.

He took another step toward her and surveyed her filthy form. She was wearing jeans that used to be blue, but were now a smeary mess of browns, and a forest green cable-knit sweater that camouflaged her figure enough that he couldn't make out much beyond her general plumpness.

Throughout his entire examination, she still hadn't uttered a word, and another, not-entirely unpleasant thought crossed his mind.

"Can you speak?" he asked softly, making sure to enunciate clearly enough that she could read his lips with her pretty brown eyes if she needed to. While the idea of a stupid mate was intolerable, the idea of a silent one…

"Of course I can speak," she said, her voice not much more than a husky whisper. "I'm just trying to decide what exactly I should say. I've never..." She trailed off and scrambled to her feet before crossing her arms over her ample chest and pinning him with a still-incredulous gaze. "I've never seen a dragon-shifter before."

"Well, surely you knew what to expect. I mean, we’re much the same as you." Only better, because of the wings, he added silently to himself. No point in rubbing in the obvious. "And, frankly, I find it hard to believe you wouldn't have taken to the ancient books to get some idea of what your husband would look like before we met."

She shook her head back and forth as if to clear it, sending her tawny colored tresses cascading over her shoulders. "My...what was that, now?"

The irritation that had been building since the second he'd flown up to find the elder Stone’s on the run and his intended covered in mud, cowering like a victim finally came to a head, and molten fire burned at his throat.

"Son of a bitch," he snarled, scrubbing a hand over his face as it all lined up, like a neat little row of dominoes. "Your parents didn't tell you that I was a dragon?"

Her white, smooth throat worked as she swallowed hard enough for him to hear it. "No."

"Did they tell you I was a wolf?"

Her laugh was far from humorous. In fact, the pain it held made his gut clench.

"Even that lie would have been more forgivable than what I was told."

He eyed her long and hard, his brain working to detangle this newest snarl of problems. When he came to the only logical conclusion, his anger bloomed to full blown rage.

"They didn't tell you that they were bringing you to your mate at all?" he growled, a flash of smoke and fire pouring from his lips as he spoke.

She took a step back, clearly shaken by his volatile reaction.

"N-no. They told me we were going to meet someone that they wanted me to consider."

He yanked a packet of papers from his bag and held them out to her. They were already halfway down this treacherous road. Might as well get it over with all at once so she could let it sink in.

"The time for consideration has long past, I’m afraid. My name is Drake Blackbourne. And, according to these papers, we’re already wed.”